Caught in the Crossfire
by CI-KiteWolfling-NYPD
Summary: For a few seconds it was armageddon as the bullets and screams flew. She knew the cops would ask her why she was on that side of town, but at the moment she didn't care. All she wanted was to make it out of there alive.
1. Who the hell are you, sweetheart?

"Hey, my name's Olivia, what's yours?"

She spoke English. I could have answered her back perfectly well but for some reason I didn't feel I had the energy to construct a sentence in English. I continued to stare determinedly at the ceiling until I saw her standing over me.

"Please, I know you've been through a lot tonight but I need you too talk to me."

Of course she needed me to talk to her! I thought I might just remain stubbornly quiet and not even try to understand her words. Then I heard the door open, and heard someone else slip into the room.

Ug, what now? As the door snapped shut I turned my head and saw that a tall powerfully built man had entered my hospital room. His features were distinctly Latino. Aha, Bring in the bilingual cop to talk to the kid who might not understand a word of English. Mmhmm. I thought I recognized this guy from the raid, as well. Was he the one that had carried me out alive?

"Hola!" The man said, coming over to stand next to Olivia, "Como te llamas?"

Spanish. Predictable. My features were either Colombian or Hispanic, it was a good guess. I considered giving them both a hard run for their money by saying a phrase in Arabic or German, but decided against it. My head was starting to throb.

I told this to the man in Spanish, even using my left hand to rub the bandages a little, and I winced. I saw his eyes light up and the triumphant glance he shared with the woman named Olivia. They thought they had scored a point when they heard my Spanish words.

"She says her head hurts." The man reported to the woman named Olivia. I saw her almost, _almost_ roll her eyes—no doubt she could have figured out that much on her own.

The man returned his soft brown eyes to mine, and asked (In Spanish), "Do you remember anything that happened to you tonight?"

"No." Was my automatic, immediate programmed response, but of course I had known what had happened….

"You were shot at." (All this is Spanish), "The man who did it got away. He almost killed you but now you're safe. You're in the hospital."

I tried to look as though this were news to me. The man's choice of words were a little hard to catch up to—He spoke fluent enough Spanish, but it was a little rusty as thought he hadn't bothered to speak it in a while. Not uncommon.

"Ask her what her name is again." The woman named Olivia said, holding my gaze steadily.

He asked me, and I took my time responding.

I decided to reveal at least a small part of the truth.

"I was never given a name." I looked up at the man with the brown eyes and hoped my pools of blue looked innocent and baleful.

I guess it worked. He looked over at the woman named Olivia and said softly, "can't we wait to question her in the morning? She's been through a lot…"

The woman named Olivia nodded. She patted me on the shoulder in what she imagined was a comforting way, and then she and the narcotics cop left me hospital room.

"How's she doing?" Elliot asked as the two exited the room.

"Only speaks Spanish." Olivia sighed heavily, "We didn't get much out of her, only that her head hurts. Not even a name, but I guess she could still be in shock…"

"Well you can't rule out the possibility that she speaks perfect English, but after getting shot in the head she doesn't want to take the energy to understand it…" Mike suggested, shoving his hands in his pockets, "I mean…it's just a thought…"

"No, that's good." Elliot stepped to the window, and watched me through the glass, "Pretty thing, isn't she?"

"Way to pretty to be on that side of town." Olivia said, "I still want to know why she was anywhere near that building, she could have been killed."

"And she almost was." Mike pulled his hands out of his pockets and crossed them over his broad chest, "It was Armageddon for a few seconds there, she could just be an innocent bystander who got caught in the crossfire. If she hadn't of ducked behind one of the trucks waiting there at the docks she'd be at the morgue right now."

"Charming." Olivia murmured.

"Come on Mike, you know on that part of the town there are very few, 'innocent bystanders'" Elliot said waspishly, "Maybe she's a daughter of one of the gang members?"

"It's possible, but I don't know." Mike scratched the back of his head, "Her features seem more Colombian than Mexican, but her Spanish is so perfect she could easily have come from…" Mike gave his head a vigorous shake, "…uhh…sorry guys I can't think straight."

Elliot checked his watch, "Go home and get some rest. Be back here at about ten, we'll need a translator if we want to get anywhere with this kid. You may be right about her being able to speak English, but just in case you'd best be here."

"Cool. Later, guys." Mike nodded and left the premise.

Olivia placed her forehead against the glass, and heaved a heavy sigh.

_Who the hell are you sweetheart?_

"'Liv, you should get home too." Elliot said softly.

"Yeah…see you tomorrow." Olivia forced a grin and put on her coat.


	2. I've never been given a name

_The next day_

"Give me some more details about what happened with this kid last night."

Olivia and Mike were waiting outside my hospital room for me to wake up. Elliot wasn't there yet, but that was predictable. 'Liv and Mike were about an hour early.

Mike took a sip of his coffee before answering, "Pretty straightforward, we got the signal and came screaming into the docks. The kid was just standing there like nothing was wrong, looked a little bit lost. I thought for sure that she was going to get herself killed, all units pulled back and someone shouted for her to move. She didn't though. All the men came screaming out of the building shooting bloody hell and it didn't even faze her. The men who came out never gave her a second glance either."

Olivia nodded, "Well, that's good."

"Sure but its weird. You don't know these guys. They kill innocent people for the pure joy of it, so the fact that they let this kid walk away unscathed is just fishy in itself"

"She didn't walk away unscathed, though. Somehow in all of this she caught a bullet to her head. Did CSU find anything? Like…who's gun the bullet was from? Trajectory? Anything?"

"There are so many bullets and casings laying around there it would be impossible." Mike shook his head, "And there was plenty of obstacles around so we'd have to consider that maybe a bullet just ricocheted off something and grazed her head…"

"No, the doctor showed us those X-rays, remember? If it was a ricochet it would have hit her like _this." _Olivia used her left hand as a model for my head, and used her other hand as a model for the bullet, "But if she had been shot at, then it would have come more at her like…_this_." Olivia changed how her right hand was moving, "Which would account for the clean wound…"

"Right, right." Mike nodded, "Well how are we going to do this? My people are still trying to catch those that managed to sneak away, the Feds have started to root around because they think maybe that raid found something they're interested, and now SVU is trying to work something out of this kid. I guess we'll have to wait and see how she fits in with the wolves, and then we'll go from there. Up until then the second we find something, you'll know."

"The wolves?"

"The Name of that gang." Mike said, "We've been waiting to get them good like this for years, we've been trying to get someone in there…but they all have code names, you know? Like… when we press the heat on known members to give us other names the only thing they'll tell us are names like, 'greyback' or 'thornpaw.' Its like a damn cult."

"Wait a second!" Olivia looked like she had just thought of something, "What if…what if this kid is the daughter of a gang member or something, and when we asked her name she thought she meant code name—"

"That was why she said 'I haven't been given a name—"

The two looked at each other with understanding in their eyes.

Elliot rounded the corner, a coffee in his hands.

"Woah…did I miss something?"

"Everything." Olivia looked over and into the room, "She's waking up—I'll stay here and fill Elliot in, Mike you go and talk to the kid. Ask her what her real name is. I'll be there in just a sec."

"Will do!" Mike set his coffee down on the ground and entered my hospital room.


	3. Circles

I was not at all surprised to find the man with the brown eyes sitting on the other side of my hospital room when I woke up. Sunlight was streaming in through the curtains with a rather worn look so I suppose they had been sitting there for quite a while waiting for me to wake up.

"Good morning!" The man with the brown eyes said in Spanish, rising from his chair and kneeling at my bedside, "How are you feeling?"

"Well, thank you." I said back to him in Spanish. I glanced at the woman named Olivia, who had just entered the room, "Who is this?"

"That is Olivia, she is a police officer and she is here to help you." The man with the brown eyes looked at me carefully, "She does not speak Spanish, so it would be much easier if you spoke English, is that alright?"

So the guy wasn't completely dumb. I nodded, and looked at the woman named Olivia, "OK."

The woman named Olivia gave a kind smile, and leaned over me again, "Did you sleep well last night?

"Well enough I suppose." I said carefully. I had prepared myself, braced myself for any of the questions she might ask me, my name, my age, where I was born, who my parents where and above all why I was at the warehouse last night on the docks—so her polite and genuinely caring inquiry as to how I was feeling totally threw me off track.

"You were shot in the head last night on the docks, do you remember that at all?" The woman named Olivia continued, looking at me like a mother would look at her sick child. I resented the pity in her eyes, but made no comment about it as she continued, "The police officers that saw you said you were walking towards the warehouse where they were about to raid."

"That's right." I responded. Ah, at last here it was.

"What's your name, sweetheart? We really need to know."

"I haven't been given a name." I said automatically.

"Yes, we know. But what's your real name? The name you were born with? I bet it's very pretty."

I found I did not like the woman named Olivia. Sure she was trying to be nice and kind enough to me, but it seemed like she was treating me like a two-year old.

"I am nameless until they give me a name. It's not all that hard to grasp." _Easy now, _"I'm sorry…I'm a little crabby after catching a bullet to the head."

"So you know members of the gang?" The woman named Olivia said, shooting another glance at the man with the brown eyes, "Why were you there on that side of the town, sweetheart?"

"Was it going like this last night, too?" Cragen asked Elliot from behind the glass, having just arrived, "And when I say, 'this' I mean 'totally pointless drabble that's not getting us anywhere with who the girl is.'"

"Yeah, its been this prudent since the very beginning." Elliot crossed his arms across his broad chest and heaved a heavy sigh, "Its going in circles, and is showing no sign of straightening out."

"Hey I got some more details about the wolves, folks!" Fin walked into the waiting room waving a case file high over his head, "Sounds to me like it's a combination cult, gang, drug cartel, and a base pad for some serious organized crime. They've only had two good busts in the past ten years, one back in '99, where they managed to get two members of the Wolves behind bars. Unfortunately no matter what deals the ADA prosecuting threw on the table the two guys wouldn't spill about anything else in the Wolves."

"And the second bust?" Cragen asked.

"Well, this recent one." Fin stared into the hospital room, "How's it been going?"

"Not very well at all, we've been waiting here for three hours, kid just woke up and we haven't even gotten her name yet." Elliot sounded tired already, and it wasn't even noon, "Dodging all of Mike and Olivia's questions, sounds almost like she's been brainwashed. Definitely has some connection to the Wolves, but we're no closer to figuring out what it is than you are."

"Sounds like the kid's got a guilty conscience." Fin said, "I used to get it all the time when I worked with narcotics. You get someone who really was involved and start asking them questions like they weren't, they'll start sweating weather they want to or not, 'dodging questions' like you said."

"Yeah, Fin, we get it all the time in Special Victims Unit too, in case you haven't noticed." Cragen commented, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"This girl really isn't sweating, more leading Olivia and Mike in nice pretty little circles." Elliot said tonelessly.

"She defiantly knows how to shut them down, but she only just woke up." Cragen said, "We'll give it a little while longer."

"Where's Munch?" Elliot questioned.

"He's out with Narcotics, trying to get some of the Wolf members already in Rikers to tell us something about the kid here." Fin inclined his head towards me in my room, "He'll call me the second they get one of them to spill the beans, but that doesn't seem likely." Fin tapped the case file, "From the looks of this they've played things close to the chest as long as they've been around."

"And how long is that?" Cragen took the case file from Fin's hands.

"Nothing major since about middle of the nineteen ninteys." Fin said, "But…yeah. They've done some shootings, lots of hired crime and their fingers have turned up in pies busted open long ago, but nothing conclusive enough to get them out in the open."

"So we've got a large cult of hit men/drug dealers who possibly brainwash members, and like to stick to the shadows and stay as reclusive as possible." Cragen summarized, "And we are still stuck on the familiar territory of square one…"


	4. No kiss For You

_**(Authors note:: I just want to thank the 3 people that have read and reviewed the story so far for your kind and encouraging words. I wrote the first chapter on a whim without really knowing where I wanted to go with it, but now at chapter four I think I'm starting to get an idea of where this is all headed. So sit back, relax, and here we gOoOoOoOoOoOo……)**_

Rikers held its share of hardened, seasoned criminals but in all his years in law enforcement, John Munch had never seen a pair of inmates quite like this.

"We're glad to be here!" Mark Richter (Thornpaw) said, leering. He leaned forward on the table and stared hard at the detective's stony countenance, "And we're glad to be here in the name of the Wolves!"

"More power to the Wolves!" James Lieffers (Grayback) grunted, raising his fist in a kind of bizarre Hitler salute, "You can't stop the revolution, old man! The storm is coming!"

"Yeah, we've been over that already." John glanced behind him at Matt Foreman, the narcotics officer who had accompanied him down here on this fishing expedition. Mark was above green-shield status, but still the greenhorn blood in him made him stand at the other side of the room, hand on the butt of his gun, ready to leap into action should something go awry. There were guards standing by every which way ready to bust in should things start to get violent, John knew, so he had no trouble with sitting his old bones down at the table with Mark and Jimmy.

"Let's start over. Again." John rubbed his temples, "Despite your psychobabble about storms and revolutions, there was a huge bust at the Wolves hideout, at the abandoned warehouse. What do you know of a teenager who was hanging around there and almost got killed in the crossfire?"

"How the hell are we supposed to know, man?" Lieffers sneered, leaning back in his chair with a nonchalance brought on only by sitting in a jail sell for eight years, "That was eight years ago. The Wolves could have a new pack leader, they could have relocated ten times and we would have no idea. Even if we knew who that kid was, she would've been way to young then to be of any use to us back then."

"Are you going to help out here or just hold the wall up?" John commented waspishly to Matt.

"Don't bother," Mark said to Matt, folding his arms across his chest defiantly, "We've got nothing more to say to you gentlemen…but let us talk to our packmates for a little while and maybe we'll have something for you. We know they're here—word has a habit of traveling, and I can smell it in the air when one of my own is close."

"And besides," James cocked his head and gave a challenging grin, "Even if we did know something about that girl—"

"I never said it was a girl." John crossed his arms across his chest and stared the two inmates down imperiously, "You came up with that all your own. I guess you do know what I'm talking about then, eh?"

"Like I said." James leaned in until he and the detective were almost nose to nose, "Let us talk to our packmates, and maybe we'll have something for you."

John curled his lip, "No way. That's out of the—"

"Fine, we'll make it happen." Matt cut in, coming off the wall and into Thornpaw's face, "You've got fifteen minutes with your friends, and then you'd better start talking."

Mark and James exchanged satisfied looks.

"You've got a deal!" They said in perfect unison, holding their hands out to be shaken.

_**(BREAK--- - 25 minutes later.)**_

"What the hell was that?" John demanded of Matt on their way over to the holding cells.

"You wanted to know if they knew anything about that kid, well I'm getting it out of them." Matt said calmly, "These guys wont play by our rules—when they came in eight years ago they refused every deal thrown on the table. However they'll play by their own rules, and all we have to do is beat them at it."

"So sifting through all the clichés in that sentence, you're suggesting that we let those two nut jobs who—and I quote—said they were 'happy in prison' see their 'packmates'? Do you really think that'll loosen their jaws?"

"Heck yeah." Matt nodded vigorously, "These guys never lie. Plead guilty to all charges, don't hide anything either. You can be sure that they'll be good on their word. They dressed so nice for trial way back then that we were in danger of having the city hailing them as heroes rather than gang bangers. And here's another thing—the Wolves are very oriented with keeping their fellow man alive," Matt grinned, "Ironic, isn't it? While they shoot to kill one of their principals is to watch your packmates back. Chatting with their pals will stir some sentiment up in their decrepit hearts. Don't worry, they'll start talking."

"So now the Wolves is a cult focused on loving your fellow brother?" John snorted, "I thought it was a gang?"

"It's a little of both, from what I hear." Matt shook his head, "The whole lot of them have been beeping just on the edge of our radar—enough to be noticed but not enough for us to watch for them."

"Was this for lack of evidence or lack of activity?"

"Evidence, defiantly. We know they've been involved in some heavy hitting stuff that's gone down in the past, but there's nothing definitive to tie them to the case. They're very good at covering their tracks."

"Wonderful." John muttered, "That's exactly what New York needs—smart bad guys."

Matt laughed, "I don't know about that, but what I do know is that the only Wolves members we've ever been able to catch—ever—are extremely low on the food chain. Nobody higher up has ever even been heard of, not even a whisper."

"What the hell are we up against?" John shook his head sadly, "If this actually does get us an answer, Matt I swear I'll kiss you I swear it."

Matt made no sign that this was an incentive or otherwise, he simply slammed his way into the next room that they came upon.

The guards had lead James and Mark to meet their Wolven buddies. The two inmates had refused to talk to their friends unless Foreman and Munch went away—after walking twice around the compound the two detectives were coming back to get their reward.

"Name." Matt said sharply, without preamble, "We let you two have your little talk, and we didn't listen in. We've done our half. Name."

Mark and James glanced at each other again, and stared back at the cop without flinching or showing an ounce of fear.

"Wolfling." Mark said, eyes blazing, "Her name is Kite Wolfling."

"You can't stop the storm." James raised his fist again in that strange salute. In perfect unison he and his fellow packmate rolled back their sleeves, revealing an outlandish tattoo that was unmistakably—a wolf.

John sighed and looked over at Matt.

"No kiss for you. This is absolute crap. We're done here."


	5. A load of crap

_**(Umm…lol for those of you that might be thinking otherwise John isn't gay in the story. P that last bit there was just some typical Munch humor. No one has made any accusations really, but I just wanted to clarify that for future readage.)**_

"Kite?"

Olivia watched amused as Fin paced the hospital waiting room wildly, arguing heatedly with Munch over a cell connection.

"Her name is Kite? Are you sure you've got that right?" Fin stopped and kicked the wall hard, making Elliot (who Olivia suspected had fallen into a slight doze, just standing there against the glass) jump, "What the hell is this, Munch?"

Olivia could almost hear John's dry comeback. It didn't take much imagination to see that Fin was steamed about this news, "Alright, thanks buddy. Have Foreman call you if they get anything, and you call me as soon as—yup. Mmhmm. Later."

Fin snapped his phone shut, and rounded on Olivia and Elliot, scowling.

"Eh?" Elliot grunted, looking around blearily, "What did I miss?"

"Munch said he struck a deal with the two inmates who were arrested before." Fin looked so mad he could spit, "They said the kids name was Kite. Kite Wolfling."

"What?" Olivia thought for sure she had misheard.

"Nonsense." Elliot mumbled.

"Yeah, he swears that's what they said." Fin shoved the phone back in his pockets, whirled and ripped the case file from Elliot's grasp and immediately started pouring over it, "Those two guys have been rotting in jail for eight years, might addle anyone's brains but Munch swears they seemed Ok."

"But they could still be spouting a load of bull." Elliot contributed.

Fin nodded, "Now I _really_ don't know now weather to treat this kid like a victim, a perp, or just an innocent bystander."

"She might have been a bystander, but right now it doesn't look like she's all that innocent." Olivia turned her attention back to the hospital room. The shades were drawn—I was getting dressed, "The hospital is discharging her this afternoon, which leads us to another problem."

"Oh, wonderful." Elliot sighed.

"Where is this kid going to stay?" Olivia scratched the back of her head, "We can't drop her with ACS or put her into foster care, we'd never get her out of the damn system again if something came up. She's not talking so we don't know if she's got parents anywhere. I'd say have the state put her in protective custody, but she's a minor and—"

"Can't she stay with you in your apartment?" Elliot asked, "High brass shouldn't scream all to loud about that."

"Ell, you didn't see the way she looked at me in there." Olivia jerked her thumb in my direction, "She hates me."

"Looked at me like that too." Mike came bounding around the corner, catching the tail end of their conversation, "Doctor down the hall told me the kids being discharged. Does she have a name yet?"

"Yeah." Fin rolled his eyes, "Her name is—" He snorted, "­—_Kite."_

Mike stared blankly.

"Kite? Like…you mean…a kite?" The man started making vague motions with his hands, as though miming the action of flying a kite, "That's wild. All the other members of the gang have Wolf related names—"

"Oh I forgot to get to the best part." Fin continued, sounding as though he were still debating weather to take himself seriously or not, "Her last name is Wolfling."

"Wolfling?" Mike looked bewildered, "That sounds like—"

"A load of crap." Everyone present chorused.

"We know, Mike." Olivia said, "But it's all we have to go on right now. Someone's screwing us over, and I think she's five foot four, has brown eyes, and speaks Spanish."

"Hello people, tell me something good." Cragen suddenly was on the scene, looking from detective to detective. No one commented on his inane ability to pop out of nowhere like a daisy.

"I'm not gonna be the one to spread the words of joy and wonder this time." Fin threw his hands in the air and sank into one of the plush armchairs.

"Someone talk to me. Now." Cragen said crisply.

"Munch got some member of the Wolves to talk." Olivia stepped in, "And they said the girls name was Kite Wolfling."

Cragen nodded, "Well at least you've got a name. That's a good—" Don stopped, and blinked, "—I'm sorry…what did you say?"

"Kite Wolfling." Olivia repeated slowly and clearly, "Munch swears on his soul that's exactly what the two inmates said. Captain—you've got to remember these guys are big into giving each other nicknames, this probably isn't really her—"

"Call her Sarah for now." Don said shortly, shaking his head, "And the girl is being discharged—where is she going to stay?"

"We were just talking about that." Elliot commented, "I suggested she stay in Olivia's apartment—it's big enough and the higher ups should have no reason to complain."

"Yeah, but—" Olivia threw her hands up in surrender, "Ok, fine. The mystery girl gets to stay at my place."

_**(Break)**_

I smiled thinly as the woman named Olivia walked into my hospital room. I was waiting for her, sitting on the edge of my bed fully dressed and washed up ready for whatever she was going to throw at me this time.

The woman named Olivia smiled back. I had a feeling we were both hiding some darker sentiment behind the plastic expression, but for now I was willing to take it at face value.

"Well, since you wont give us your name we're just going to have to call you Sarah, or whatever other name pops into my head at the moment."

Her caring maternal manner had faded somewhat. I could tell she didn't like me. Or at least she was tired of me. That was fine, I got it all the time and it was no big deal. Believe me, if I cared she'd know.

"You're being discharged with a clean bill of health." Olivia nodded at me, "The bandages on your head can come off in about two weeks, but right now we have another issue."

_Aha. What is it this time?_

"Since you wont tell us your name, we don't know where your parents are or where you live." The woman named Olivia took a few steps closer, "Are you going to tell me?"

"I live in the street." I folded my arms delicately over my chest, "I always have."

Her eyes flickered up and down my frame, "You're pretty well nourished for living on the streets."

"I get buy." I tried to soften my hard stare. _Tread easily here, girl, _"And I used to live in Colombia before I came here."

"How did you come here?" I could tell she was aching to glance behind her at all her friends behind the glass. What was it with cops and making eye contact with other cops after they think they've made a significant discovery?

"I rode on the shirttails of a work visa." I said calmly, "I've been living here ever since."

"Let me guess, your parents don't have names either?"

I beamed, "You're catching on, detective."

"They were never given names?"

I nodded, "Very good."

"They never were part of the Wolves? They didn't know Thornpaw or Grayback?" Her smile was no longer plastic, now It was genuinely triumphant.

My grin faded a little, "Erm—who?"

The woman named Olivia smiled, "Well, sweetheart looks like it's going to be you and me until we can find you a permanent home."

"Oh, that's cool." I said, lying through my teeth like I always do.


	6. Back to the Station House

Olivia and I did not speak a word to each other until we reached her apartment, which was on the east side of Brooklyn. I could tell that she had been watching me like a hawk for some sign of my guilt even as she turned corners and dueled with lunch hour traffic. Soon we were rolling past brownstone row houses on the east side, and at last we pulled up to a large upscale apartment building.

I got out of the car obligingly, and nodded over as her when she exited the vehicle as well. She slammed the car door shut harder than what she probably would have normally, brushed past me, and entered the building.

She was up on the fifth floor, with a good view of the shoreline. I didn't know Olivia lived so close to the water, but I guess there were a lot of things we didn't know about each other. Well, that's ok.

She unlocked the door to her apartment, and ushered me inside.

"It's not much." She said simply, shrugging off her coat and hanging it up on the wall.

"It's enough." I said quietly. That much was true, it wasn't greatly furnished, but looked lived in. My keen eyes swept the entire place up and down—there were no pictures of family on the mantle, there was no evidence that anyone else had been here in the past…year. Olivia seemed to be the kind of detective that threw herself so totally and completely into the job that she had no time for family or a personal life.

Sad, really. I swung around and nodded again at the woman, "It's nice, really."

"Well, I'll pull out the bed on the couch later, right now I'm hungry." We were both trying to be nice to each other, I guess seeing as we were going to be roommates. Olivia crossed to the small kitchen, and threw open the fridge door. I heard her moving containers around in her quest for food, clinking some glass bottles together…

She reemerged, looking flustered but grinning slightly.

"Do you want to just order pizza?"

I smiled thinly back at her, "Yeah, sure."

I crossed to the large window that overlooked the ally, folding my arms across my chest and hugging myself. What I didn't tell Olivia, and what I wasn't sure I was telling myself was that I was scared. Scared of what the Wolves might do to me to make sure I won't talk. To make sure that I wouldn't use the police to save my hide. My neck. My ass. Whatever.

There was a parked car on the other side of the street. It had pulled up when Olivia and I had, and no one had gotten out yet. Did that scare me? Yeah. Did I say anything about it to the police officer who was now ordering pizza from the parlor around the corner? Nope. Not a chance.

I had a feeling I was going to die tonight, but the last time I had that feeling I was wrong, wasn't I?

"Hey Sarah, you want pepperoni?"

I spun around, jolted back to earth, "Yeah, sure."

She nodded, rattled off her address, and hung up.

"Listen, Sarah. You and I haven't gotten off to the best start, and we both know it. Can't we start over?" She crossed the room and stood next to me, holding out a hand, "Hi I'm Olivia."

_Yeah, sure. _"Hi I'm Sarah."

We shook on it, and at that moment it occurred to me that it was probably for the best to keep away from the doors and windows should things get unfriendly outside.

"So how long will I be here?" I asked, trying not to sound anxious to get out on the road again.

"As long as it takes to figure out what to do with you." Olivia said carefully, "Right now no one knows if you were an innocent bystander, a gang member yourself, or if you are a victim just managed to escape. We want to keep you close while we figure all that out."

"So this is an actual case now? Because I lived there will be an investigation?"

"Something like that…you want a pop?"

"Yeah, sure." I sunk into a chair, shaking my head. Olivia went back to the fridge, and pulled out a 2 liter of coke. She poured me some, and slid it onto the table, "Well, come and get it."

I grinned, and threw myself out of the chair, staggering over to my drink. After inhaling it in less that a minute, I set the empty glass down.

Olivia's cell phone rang. I had not noticed a landline in the room so it was logical to assume that her cell was her only means on contact with the other detectives.

She pulled it from her pocket, staring at it rather mutinously, "Gee that was quick." And then flipped it open, "Yeah, Ell."

She remained motionless for a few seconds and listened to what was being said on the other line. She hung up the phone after a few seconds, cursed, and grabbed her keys.

"Well, now we have to go back to the station."

"Why?" My confusion was genuine.

"My partner says your father came there and wants you to come home "


	7. Why is it always decaf?

**(About fifteen minutes ago))**

It had been a long, strange, uneventful morning. Elliot drove back to the station house in quite a stupor, twice being jarred back to reality by the shrill honking of angry horns.

He staggered into the squad room and made a beeline for the coffee, proceeding to down three Styrofoam cupfuls before he realized—

"DAMMIT why is it always de-caff?"

Fin looked up at this cry of outrage, having just sauntered into the room himself. "Problem, Elliot?"

"You bet there is." The man growled, glaring mutinously at the coffee pot.

"Talk to me people." The Captain stuck his head out of his office, glaring from one detective to the other, "Did you guys make any progress with our mystery child?"

"It's hasn't even been an hour since you sent her off, Cap'n…" Fin had a hard time keeping down a grin, "Take it easy…we'll get to the bottom of this. She can only hold out her charade for so long."

"It's trying my patience!" The Captain said shortly, disappearing back into his office.

"Join the club." Elliot muttered, ripping open a pack of sugar and dumping it into his mouth.

At that moment a tall, well-built rather nervous looking young man came strolling through the front doors, practically bouncing up and down on the balls of his heels. He looked as though he hadn't slept well in three days…

"Hey!" Fin saw the man and headed towards him, "Is there something we can help you with?"

"Yes!" The man ran nimble fingers through his hair three times in quick succession, probably a sign of anxiousness, "I saw the East Side raid on the TV, and I just knew…I just knew…my daughter was out there on that side of town skateboarding and…she hasn't come home…"

"Hang on a minute…" Elliot forgot his coffee predicament, and crossed the room as well to stand by Fin, "Pretty girl, dark hair, brown eyes…speaks Spanish…"

"Yeah, that's her!" He brightened, "Rachel! You-You found her! Is she safe—"

"How old are you, thirty?" Elliot looked skeptical, "Pretty young to be a daddy. You're Caucasian, she's Columbian…what are you trying to pull?"

"She's adopted, and I'm thirty five!" The man pleaded desperately, "My name is Sam Roth, I adopted her through Saint Bethany's, check it out really her name is Rachel Roth, she's fifteen—parents gone…"

"Why don't you come over here and we'll check this out…" Fin said cautiously, waving the man over, "Where did you say you worked…"

While Sam Roth anxiously gave out his info, Elliot fished his cell out of his pocket and called Olivia, "hey you'd better get down here…"


	8. Play along or we all die!

My thoughts were racing as Olivia drove back the exact way that we had come. It was a much shorter rise heading back there now that the noon lunch crowd was pretty much off the streets. As we got closer and closer block by block I really wanted it all to end…if this was it…if he really was here…

The woman named Olivia parked the car in front of the station house, and got out. My father? No way…he couldn't be here…

I was in a daze as I trotted up the stairs and went into the Squad room…where I found him waiting for me.

This was not my father. I stopped myself from heaving a sigh of relief. I looked closer, and to my surprise I found that I did indeed recognize this man, this man who was claiming at the moment to be my father…

"RACHEL!" He exclaimed, crossing the room in seemingly one bound, gathering me up in a hug, "I WAS SO WORRIED! Are you all right? Where were you? Oh I'm so glad I found you…"

I recoiled slightly, but he pressed his mouth against my ear and hissed, "_Play along or we all die!"_

I could hear the fear in his voice…and I knew that he was serious. Deathly serious.

"Everything checks out." The man named Fin called to Olivia, "The guy works over in Queens. Lives on the South side of the burrow, adopted Rachel here through the local church…yep, yep its all good. Apparently he wanted to file missing persons report, but—"

"But it hadn't been 48 hours…" Olivia mused.

"Are you aware that you're daughter was right in the middle of the gang bust?" Fin asked Sam, "What the hell was she doing out there? She could have been killed, don't you know that place had been closed to the public for years?"

I stood next to this man, and it was almost like I could hear his thoughts.

_Come on come on we only have a few more minutes before the ruse is up…_

"She was skateboarding on the docks! Everyone does it!" He protested in the typical excusing tone of a parent, "She must have gotten a ride over there or something….please detectives, if everything is in order I would like to take my daughter home, please!"

All the detectives glanced at each other as Sam put a protective arm around my shoulders. I knew what they were all thinking, something was up, something was wrong about this situation…but we had to get out of there before they all started to think to hard. Olivia probably didn't want me to go, she knew I was about to slip right through her fingers. Unfortunately none of them had any legal standing to make me stay.

I knew it and they knew it.

"Well, I hope we'll never have to see you again!" Elliot said cheerfully, offering me a hand to shake.

Sam never gave me a chance. He bustled me out of the room, down the stairs….and away.

"Good performance." Olivia said sarcastically.

"Well that was weird." Elliot commented once we were gone.

"Too weird." Olivia mused, sighing and running her fingers through her hair, "Fin, you're sure everything that that guy said checked out?"

"Yep." Fin said, "Strangely…"

"What the hell just happened." The Captain flew out of his office, eyebrows knit together, looking flustered. He had seen the entire scene from his office window, and now was out to investigate these strange goings on, "Who was that? Where is our girl going?"

"Awww…Cap'n you missed the fun…" Fin drawled, rolling his eyes.

"Our mystery girl's name is Rachel Roth." Olivia shook her head, tone skeptical, "That was just her dad who decided to take her home."

"Well…" The Captain clearly didn't know what to make of it, "What about—"

"The Wolves? We don't know." Elliot crossed his arms over his chest, "But she's gone now. The good thing is we have Sam Roth's address in case we ever want to drop in on them again."

"He seemed awful young to be her dad."

"Adopted." Olivia stated, eyes narrowing, "The guy had an answer for everything."

"Yeah he did." Fin growled, "Talked to him when you and the kid were on your way over, 'Liv. Mighty slick operator…"

"If you think he's too slick, investigate further!" The Captain said simply, "That girl was sly enough to give me the chills. I don't trust this guy, he could be up to something with her. Part of the gang maybe? Both in it together? Just trying to get her out of our clutches before we find something convicting?"

"But everything checked out!" Fin repeated, "No holes whatsoever!"

"Then find some!" Olivia demanded, coming over to Fin's computer, "If it's a fake ID its supposed to look foolproof at a glance…There's got to be holes In there somewhere, nothing is perfect…"

"Ya know…" Elliot looked thoughtful, "Maybe…maybe she really was just a kid out for a skate."

Three people sent him death glares.

"Hey kids!" Munch suddenly descended upon them with a middle aged man in tow, "I brought a friend, says he's our girls father. Woah…what's with the death looks?"

"My little Kimmi!" The man said through a thick accent, sounding on the verge of tears, "Kimmi Rodriguez? Tall, black hair and brown eyes? I saw the East Side Raid on the TV and knew…I just knew….is she alright?"

Fin, Elliot, and Olivia dropped their jaws and gaped at their Captain.

"Either our kid has two fathers…" he said darkly, "Or we have just been had. AGAIN!"

"What do you mean?" The man looked distressed.

"Your Kimmi just walked out of here with a man named Sam Roth, claiming to be her father also." The Captain said rather frankly, not sure how else to put it.

The man's face fell fast, "This man, was he tall…young…good looking…spoke courteously… "

"Blonde hair, blue eyes?" Olivia sighed.

"_He will kill her!" _The man nearly leaped a foot into the air, "His name is not Sam Roth it is Jack Springer, _he will kill her! _Didn't you check his background? Why did you let her go with him?"

"Alright, why don't you step in my office and we can talk some more…" The Captain said soothingly to the man, who now looked like he wanted to curl up into a ball and die. Don sent a heated glare at his detectives, "You said you had this guys address…well go drop in on him there. Now."

"Munch and I'll go check on this Jack guy." Fin said decidedly, and there was a bustle of motion as Elliot and Olivia went for the door and Fin and Munch went for their coats and car keys…


End file.
